


Penetrating Abdominal Trauma

by GlitterCrow



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Aftermath, Angst, Emergency Medical Technicians, Freeform, Gen, Hurt Will Graham, Medical Kink, Medical Trauma, Poor Will Graham, Spoilers, Trauma, post mizumono
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 12:19:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1688147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterCrow/pseuds/GlitterCrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My way of dealing with the end of season 2.  </p>
<p>Immediate aftermath of the end of mizumono - or - what I hope season 3 opens to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Penetrating Abdominal Trauma

**Author's Note:**

> http://glittercrow3.tumblr.com/ 
> 
>  
> 
> I just really want to see some medical care delivered to Will after his tummy is stabbed.

Will's world grows increasingly dim with each passing moment.  He can't hold firm pressure to Abigail's neck or the gash in his own belly anymore and his body begs for him to give in, but he can't.  There is something still pushing him to fight.  
  
With his face pressed to the floor, he feels the vibration of multiple footsteps as they near.  There is no reaction from Will as he's turned and his shirt is cut open, but it startles him when he is suddenly lifted; the feeling is reminiscent of falling in a dream.  He gasps and his arms flail to grab hold of something so he doesn't fall into the abyss.  Cold metal grazes his hand, but his blood-soaked hand slips when he tries to clutch at it.  A hand presses against his head, holding him down, and his arms are moved to his sides.  He feels straps wrap across his body, securing him to a gurney.  It's strangely comforting to him and Will lets his body goes lax.  It helps to ground him as his head swims with lightheadedness.  
  
The wheels of the gurney gather blood and streak it across the wooden floor before exiting into the steady rain outside.  Will notices the absence of Alana as they roll over the broken glass outside Hannibal's front door.  It seems she is already packed away into one of the other ambulances.  
  
Alana, Abigail, and Jack.  Their lives were all hanging in the balance, if they weren't already dead.  He wasn't sure if he would ever find out since his own life was tipping the scale towards death right now.  Renewed anguish torments Will as the doors of the ambulance close and he leaves them all behind.  Even if they all make it, they wouldn't be safe.  None of this should have happened.  He didn’t know if he _wanted_ to survive if he had to live with the memory of this day.  
  
Inside the ambulance, the EMT's do what they can to stabilize Will.  He drifts in and out of consciousness as his pupils are checked and an oxygen mask is worked over his bloody face.  It's impossible for them to accurately determine how much blood Will lost since his and Abigail's blood converged into a thick red puddle. However, along with his weak pulse and low blood pressure, the little bit of Will's skin that isn't bloody is ghost white and serves as some indication.  
  
Over the wail of the sirens, Will faintly hears one of the EMTs radio in to the hospital. "Penetrating abdominal trauma with heavy blood loss.  He's gonna need a transfusion."  
  
A team is waiting for him by the time they arrive at the hospital. The OR is prepped, the surgeon is scrubbed, and the stainless steel instruments are neatly laid out in rows.  
  
The fluorescent lights strobe annoyingly over Will's half-lidded roving eyes as he's wheeled down the hall.  His head lolls from side to side, trying to escape the pain.  There is so much pain.  Nurses try to assess him and ask him questions, but he doesn't answer beyond nodding or shaking his head.  His only words are stuttering attempts to ask about those Hannibal left in pools of their own blood.  It takes Will's remaining strength to make the question understandable; it's the only reason he clings to consciousness.  He needs to know.  Tears slide down his face when no one will answer him.  
  
The doors to the OR swing open and the gurney halts next to the table in the center of the room.  A team lifts and transfers Will's limp form onto the table.  The brilliant lights cause Will to flinch and squeeze his eyes shut.  He somehow looks even frailer underneath the ceiling-mounted surgical lamps with his damp hair and clothes still clinging to him.  It doesn't take long for the stark white linens to saturate with blood.  
  
Another flurry of hands works to prep and drape him for impending surgery.  The rest of his clothing is cut and pulled away and he's hooked up to several tubes and monitors.  Both of his arms are strapped to arm boards, holding them out like a crucifixion.  
  
Someone starts to examine Will's belly, prodding above and below the stab wound and this elicits a tearful scream from Will.  He writhes on the table and cranes his neck.  He is sure it's Hannibal standing at his side in the surgical gown, twisting the knife inside him again as he lays helpless on the table.  Nurses and surgical techs shout readings to each other and someone asks Will a question.  He can't focus.  He doesn't know what's real beyond the pain.  "P-Please! Stop! It hurts!  Just m-m-make him stop!" Will wails through the chaos.  The examining hands move elsewhere on his body.  The terror Hannibal might be in the room with him prevents him from losing consciousness.  
  
The room grows quiet when the masked surgeon speaks up. The pain and shock overwhelm Will and the surgeon sounds just like Dr. Lecter.  Will's eyes grow wide when he hears him tell his team they're going to perform an exploratory laparotomy with possible bowel resection.  Will immediately pictures Hannibal using a scalpel to widen the first slice he made into his belly so he can remove his organs as a trophy.   
  
With the plan in place, the commotion resumes and an anesthesiologist appears above Will's head, pressing a mask to his face.  
  
"Just breathe in for me, hun," she instructs.  
  
Will attempts to resist by turning his head, but she follows his movements, firmly holding the mask in place.  
  
"N-no, don't... Don't let him cut me up" he weakly begs through the mask.  
  
The anesthesiologist tries to calm Will's fear and strokes the side of his head, quietly shushing him. "You're in good hands. He's the best surgeon around," she says soothingly.  Will chokes back a sob.  
  
Will hyperventilates and quickly feels the pull of the drugs. His eyes roll back and he succumbs to blissfully unaware unconscious, fully believing he won't ever wake up again.

 


End file.
